


Nature of the Beast

by timeiscontagious



Category: Shameless (US)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 17:39:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3455987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeiscontagious/pseuds/timeiscontagious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Words like suicidal and Bipolar Disorder and psych ward scare the shit out of him. Especially when those words are associated with Ian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nature of the Beast

Mickey’s fucking scared.

Words like suicidal and Bipolar Disorder and psych ward scare the shit out of him. Especially when those words are associated with Ian.

His stomach turns in on itself. His heart quickens and hurts. He panics. Starts making promises he is not entirely sure he can keep. He yells and forces back tears, demanding cooperation without any room for compromise.

Fiona backs down right away. She doesn’t have the energy for a fight, not after just getting out of jail. She and Debbie make an excuse to leave, promising that they’ll be back with reinforcements, with the Gallagher war council.

He doesn’t give a shit. She could bring the whole fucking city of Chicago back with her.

Ian’s not leaving this house.

 

* * *

 

Mickey plays nursemaid for 17 days after the Gallaghers leave.

He brings Ian food he will never eat, glasses of water he will never drink. He makes Mandy and Iggy help him with dragging Ian into the bathroom, place him into the bathtub. He rubs Ian with soap and water, tilting his head back to rinse out the shampoo.  Most of the time all Mickey can get is a t-shirt over Ian’s head before Ian knocks his hand away. There’s no real force behind it; it’s more for show than anything else.

A majority of Mickey’s time is spent on his side of the bed just watching and waiting. He barely leaves the room, and when he does, he’s terrified that he’ll come back and Ian will be lying in a pool of blood on the floor. It’s an irrational fear since Mickey hid every knife and gun in the house days ago, but he has it just the same.

He’s scared Ian is more like his mother than any of them know.

 

* * *

 

 

Ian’s depression dissipates slowly. One day he rolls over to face the door. The next he shows his face from under the blankets. So on and so on until the day he wakes up and takes a shower. Gets himself dressed. That morning the Milkoviches have pancakes for breakfast.

At night after all the noise of the house has died away, Ian and Mickey reacquaint themselves with each other. They take their time because for once in their lives they don’t have to rush. They have time to truly explore each other, kissing and grazing, molding flesh. They fuck face to face slow and hard, foreheads touching. Mickey has his hand wrapped in Ian’s hair while Ian moves above him, pulling hard when he comes.

Mickey clings to Ian afterwards, fearing that this Ian might disappear again, might transform into someone Mickey doesn’t know how to help.

Ian runs his fingers up and down Mickey’s arm while issuing assurances. He doesn’t have Bipolar Disorder. He just did too much coke, too much E, too much of whatever. There’s no need to worry. He’s fine. Everything’s fine. He will never leave Mickey.

And like what others do with the people they love, Mickey takes him at his word.

 

* * *

 

 

The Milkovich house is full of life. Money is coming in on a more consistent basis and everyone is getting along relatively well. A semi-regular routine has been built.

After weeks of fighting about Mickey’s lack of interest in the baby, Mickey and Svetlana have come to a truce now that Ian is holding up Mickey’s end of the bargain.

This was an agreement that they made one night after a particularly amazing round of sex. Their limbs were tangled and Ian was whispering in Mickey’s ear about Mickey being the provider and Ian being the stay at home dad. It was dark in their room so Ian never saw the look of surprise on Mickey’s face when those words fell out of Ian’s mouth. Mickey nodded his head slightly.

He then spent the rest of the night wrapped in Ian’s arms and staring at the ceiling wondering why the idea of Ian being a father to the baby had never crossed his mind.

 

* * *

 

 

Fiona and Lip are so sure that Ian will get sick again. They follow behind Mickey, waving their so-called expertise in his face. Mickey listens to them, but the strain is unimaginable. All he wants to do is whip around and scream at them to shut the fuck up. He wants to tell them to go fuck themselves and leave his family alone. Goddamn these people and their fucking need to throw Ian to the wolves, to send him to shrinks and psych wards all so that Ian will fit whatever thing they think he should fit.

Well, fuck them and the fucking horse they rode in on.

Ian is fine.

 

* * *

 

 

The funeral is a huge mistake. Mickey knew this from the get-go which is why he went with, but he never thought Ian would be stupid enough to actively draw attention to himself. He then runs around the house frantically looking for military grade weapons under the beds and in the closets.

Mickey knows how to control this kind of situation. Despite what others might say about Mickey, he’s a planner and quick on his feet. He has to be.

After Ian’s friend sucks off the pastor, after everyone celebrates and then goes home, Ian thanks Mickey the only way he knows how.

Mickey has never come so much in his life.

 

* * *

 

 

Fucking suitcases. All of which are filled with worthless shit.

To make matters worse, Ian is running around among them, yelling about belts and keeping everything organized. All the while Svetlana barely suppresses a smirk. Mickey wants to smack it off her face for thinking this shit is funny.

It takes him a few hours before he can get Ian to bed and only then Mickey has to promise him the best blowjob of his life.

Once Ian is sated, lying on Mickey’s chest, and finally, _finally_ asleep, Mickey stares into the darkness and begs to a God he doesn’t believe in to not let this be happening again.

Please, God, not again.

 

* * *

 

 

Mickey tries talking to Ian. He really does. It’s just that he couldn’t find the right time or the right words, and before he knows it, Ian has gone to work and the house is empty. When Ian doesn’t come home at the time he’s supposed to, Mickey has no choice but to go looking. It’s last winter all over again.

He also has no choice in whether he beats the shit out of that bartending fairy who ruins his life. He wants to grind his boot into Ian’s face. He wants to punch and kick and make Ian look like the piece of shit he is.

But most of all, Mickey wants to fall on the floor and cry.

 

* * *

 

 

If he can’t fuck one Gallagher over, he will settle for another. Lip and his snotty fucking attitude. Acting like he’s better than Mickey. Like he fucking deserves to be happy. No one deserves happiness. A person just gets lucky if they are. Even then it doesn’t last.

So he makes Lip prove his allegiance to the Southside. Takes him to a fucking hipster coffee house to shoot the shit out of it. Mickey knows he will back out.

These Gallaghers are all the same.

 

* * *

 

 

He waits up for Ian. He barely notices when Svetlana leaves the baby, saying something about work or the pregnancy or some shit. He goes through various scenarios. Each one ending with him fucking Gallagher up and trying not to cry.

Ian walks in like he fucking owns the place. Like he wasn’t out fucking other dudes behind Mickey’s back. But it’s not what Mickey expected. Mickey expects to hear about a mistake, about a one- time thing, about never doing it again. What he gets is six hundred dollars and an unapologetic story about a porn shoot.

What he gets is Ian freaking the fuck out and stealing the goddamn baby.

 

* * *

 

 

Hours have gone by without a phone call, a text message, nothing. Mickey dreads telling Svetlana, moving easily out of the way when she lunges at him. He’s lucky she’s as big as she is.

He calls Fiona out of desperation, hoping against hope that somehow she will know where Ian is. That she will say something like oh, yeah, Ian’s at home with the baby. He’s fine. He’s safe.

Mickey doesn’t have that kind of luck.

 

* * *

 

 

Ian never answers his goddamn phone. Mickey paces back and forth, chain smoking cigarettes and leaving voicemails, each one more desperate than the last.

Svetlana threatens to call the cops, but Mickey holds her off. He always implies that she’ll get deported, and if she calls the cops, Mickey’s pretty sure that he’ll make sure that she does. One less mouth to feed.

An entire 24 hours has gone by without any word. Mickey has barely slept or eaten. All he does is drink and smoke and worry. Always fucking worrying.

He leaves another message for Ian. This one more personal; this one more pleading. If there’s only one message Ian listens to, Mickey hopes it’s this one.

 

* * *

 

 

The ride to Terre Haute is silent. Which would normally be fine with Mickey, but the silence weighs on him. Because the silence hides all of the accusations that he knows are being thrown his way and not just by the Gallaghers.

Mickey has plenty to accuse himself of. He didn’t do right by Ian. He knows that. He thought he was helping. He thought that he was fighting for Ian unlike his family who wanted someone else to clean up the shitshow. He had figured that if he and Ian had punched their way through every other obstacle then they would easily punch through this one too.

 But that’s not how mental illness works.

Mickey apologizes. He didn’t know. He swears on his life he didn’t know how bad it could get. Lip assures him that it can get worse. Much worse. Mickey looks at Carl.

He’s heard. 

 

* * *

 

 

Labeling their relationship to someone else besides family doesn’t faze Mickey. He thought that when the time came he would find it difficult to place into words what Ian and he mean to each other. Boyfriend makes Ian sound like a phase. Lover makes their relationship sound tawdry. Partner fits, he guesses, but family fits better.

He uses the last three to describe his relationship with Ian. Lover and partner may get the side eye treatment, but family, people understand family. Family, he knows is what will get him through the door.

They can’t turn away family.

 

* * *

 

 

Ian plods out of the cell right into Lip’s arms, then Debbie’s. Mickey pushes past both to get to him. He needs to feel him, to make sure that he’s real, to make sure that he’s safe. Mickey holds on to him like a raft, hoping that they’ll hit shore soon. He pulls away and watches as Ian is led out by his sister and brother. They walk like weary-battled soldiers, having been through this one too many times.

He takes Yev from the cops, thanks them for their kindness, and breathes in the innocent smell of the baby.

He knows what has to be done.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s normally impossible to reason with someone who is actively psychotic, but since Ian is so sedated, he’s easily malleable. He agrees to go to the hospital, to fill out the forms, to admit that there’s something not right.

Fiona dashes in at the next to last minute. Mickey feels a brief flash of anger, wanting to ask where the fuck she’s been, but decides against it. Now is not the time to pick a fight.

Ian looks at Mickey for confirmation right before he signs the consent for treatment, wanting to know that he’s doing the right thing. Mickey nods his head, silently telling him that this is right. This is more than right.

Ian barely looks at Mickey as he walks away and Mickey knows it’s because he fears what he might see in Mickey’s eyes. Ian doesn’t know what to say. But who does?

Mickey latches on to Ian. He’s not going to let Ian leave him without touching him, without holding on for dear life first. He cries and runs his hand through Ian’s hair, consoling Ian and himself.

He desperately wants to take this back. Say that there’s been a mistake. Ian doesn’t need to leave him. Ian just needs to come home. Just come home and it’ll all be okay. He will make it okay.

Mickey doesn’t say any of this. He just holds on and cries until he can’t anymore.

So with one last plea, one last refusal, one last sob, and one last kiss on the shoulder, Mickey surrenders Ian to the unknown.


End file.
